


auribus teneo lupum

by egare



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Gen, Inquisitor!Krem
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-19
Updated: 2017-07-19
Packaged: 2018-12-04 09:22:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11552244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/egare/pseuds/egare
Summary: Cremisius Aclassi was sent to the Conclave so the Chargers could know everything about the decision that was going to shape the world. He woke four days later to a headache and a throbbing left hand.





	auribus teneo lupum

_auribus teneo lupum- I am in a dangerous situation, but dare not let go else it escalates._

* * *

  **Cremisius Aclassi woke** with a pounding headache and a throbbing hand.

Usually, he connected it to drinking with the Chargers, and could have excused the hand as getting in a fight. The next day would have them reminding him of a forgotten competition that he would never have recollection of until the end of his days, of how he drank everyone but Grim and Dalish under the table, of how he let Skinner balance apples on his head and throw knives at him. He would always be reminded of how he leaned against a perfectly sober Bull and spoke loudly of a beautiful woman in the corner of the tavern that was 'making eyes at them, it's the horns, isn't it?' Sometimes, the woman would scoff and turn away. Other times, he would find himself being assured the horns were not what had caught her eye, but rather him.

He would not be in the tavern for long after that.

But the fact that he was not on a bar stool, in a bed, or even with any of the others suggested that he hadn't been drinking. No, he seemed to be more in a dungeon than anywhere else, rather clean considering that he a) didn't often remember to bathe and b) was in a dungeon. And though it was familiar sight, it was not necessarily something he enjoyed. So that left the question- where was he? He took to trying to answer that on his own, looking around, hoping for perhaps even a small window to see if he could guess by landscape. When he found no such thing, he looked to other resources- two guards, a woman and a man. He eyed the guards carefully, noting the former's anger, and the latter's extreme hesitance to be in the room with him. He seemed almost... afraid? But that didn't make much sense, he was shackled, wasn't even in his armor, much less armed-

A pain flared up in his hand, and he remembered.

_It had been carefully discussed, which of the main group would be going to the Conclave. They had to stay up to detail on what was going on in the world, for the safety of their own mage ("I'm not a mage!") and to be caught up on the politics they did not often pay attention to. And, well, Bull admitted in privacy to Krem and Grim that certain someones were interested in both the outcome and the details._

_The Iron Bull had known that if all of them went, it would have been suspicious. And so, over a couple of drinks in a nameless tavern, they planned._

_There were rumors of the Valo-Kas mercenary group being there to keep the peace, and the Iron Bull had had difficulty with them in the past. When it came down to it, security would rather throw out one Qunari than... well, security throwing itself out. And though the idea of Bull hiding in the shadows seemed good for a time, they considered the consequences of him getting caught, just in case. A Ben-Hassrath spy, at the Divine Conclave? It was just asking for scandal, whether or not Bull had been sent or had gone on his own free will._

_Rocky had a history with the templars he did not think would be useful in the situation, and had to back out. They could all assume just what that history was about. He was rather tight lipped about it all, mumbling about 'exploding the wrong buildings' and 'the damn puppy eyes on him,' but gave no further details._

_For a while they had decided on Grim going in- he was human, and Bull thought he might have actually had enough standing to be there, most likely a foreign king of some sort. But Dalish brought up the fact that there was a chance a smooth verbal cover would be needed, if approached, and Grim gave a frown at the idea. When the group suggested Dalish herself, being a mage and an elf, she scoffed and hurriedly explained she was no such thing- she had no chance of blending in with the mages, her not being one and all. If they asked her to do magic, she obviously couldn't. Krem pointed out that he doubted many elves with 'tattoos all over their faces' would be at the Conclave, anyways._

_"Dirthamen's vallaslin is not just some tattoo!" She scowled, but appreciated the effort Krem gave to convince them she couldn't go. They turned to the next member of the Chargers, continuing down the line to see who would be able to go._

_Skinner could not be trusted to not hurt anyone. She didn't seem particularly upset by the reasoning._

_That left Stitches and Krem, one of who refused to go on the fact that "If I leave, you all will take a job and get yourself killed." And everyone had to admit, he had a point. That was what had six out of the seven Chargers turn to their final member, who was too deep into his cup to notice nor understand at first. He had assumed he wouldn't be going, he had no cover, no alibi. But he looked up when he felt eyes on him, confused._

_"What're you guys-" Realization struck, and the cup he was raising to his lips paused as he began arguing. "No way, Chief, come on-"_

_"You're the best suited for this." Stitches offered with a shrug, draining the rest of his cup and setting it on the table. "You got the look, and you can talk your way out of shit if you need to."_

_"Seen you run without armor- you get news back quick, direct from source." Skinner added, and for a moment, Krem realized how serious this was- for Skinner to compliment(?) him, a 'shem,' that meant they really needed this. Not that he doubted it before, but...._

_"What does a few hours even do for us? News will travel quicker than me."_

_"Not necessarily." Rocky interrupted anyone else's attempts to convince their token Tevinter, "News'll spread quick, but you can duck out during the conclusion of the meeting, when they're making everything official and signing papers. You'll have at least an hour head start."_

_"I have no reason to be at the Conclave."_

_"I know someone who can get us a replicated Valo-Kas uniform." Dalish offered, to which Krem sarcastically drawled,_

_"Because I most definitely look like a Qunari."_

_"You can pass as a concerned civilian, if you really get questioned."_

_He had no other arguments against going. If he did, he knew they would have been useless, anyways, with the rest of the group so bent on his departure. And so, Krem took a last swig, and set his tankard down on the counter with a sigh._

_"When do I leave?"_

The Conclave. What had happened at the Conclave? He remembered arriving, being assumed a member of the mercenary group in charge of security at the doors, and not being questioned again. He remembered the beginning nearly putting him to sleep, and if it wasn't for years of dealing with uptight nobles that took too long to say what they were thinking, he might have actually let his head drop. But- but they weren't able to find the Divine, they sent security to go find her. And after that, everything went blank.

His hand flared again, and he gave a hiss of pain, but otherwise showed no indication to his two guards that he was doing anything. He studied it for a minute, taking note of the design of his scar when it was not glowing a toxic green. It looked... animalistic. No, that was the wrong word, that would say he thought it looked predatory and scary- it was a scar, not a bear. It looked like an actual animal, like a coyote, or a dog. Or....

A mabari. That was it. His scar looked like a mabari, and if it didn't also feel like it was going to kill him, he would have thought it cute.

Krem looked away from his hand as the door was slammed open, a woman- by the Maker, that armor, was she a Seeker?- entering first. He watched her eyes narrow at him, anger evident, and he almost missed her ally enter behind her. A redhead, hooded, and much better at hiding her emotions than the Seeker.

They both took a moment to study him, eyes judging. He kept eye contact as best as possible with the Seeker, knowing that if he cowered, she would strike like a wolf at an injured ram. But at the same time, if he seemed too comfortable, too brave, she might make assumptions on his guilt. And he figured that, by the weird hand and the general 'being interrogated in a cell by a Seeker of Truth herself,' he might have been accused of something big.

He figured that his guilt had already been determined long before he woke up.

There were many times he had been in... unique situations, and he was able to tell a bad one by gut feeling. This was one of those bad ones. The Seeker leaned in close, nearly spitting out her words. Anger and bias shined clearly through them, and no one seemed to have any objections to letting her do this, whether she was personally connected or not.

"Tell me why we shouldn't kill you now."

Well, _shit_.


End file.
